


Drawing on Your Hope

by EvilMuffins



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Body Worship, Body Writing, F/M, Outdoor Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 08:07:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3242417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilMuffins/pseuds/EvilMuffins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Komaeda finds a creative way to show Tsumiki how special she is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drawing on Your Hope

**Author's Note:**

> My very first time writing anything like this... P-please treat me gently, Senpai ;0;

 

The boy emerged from the surface of the resort area pool with a gasp.

“Ko-Komaeda-san!” Tsumiki wailed from her place on the surrounding concrete. “I’m so, sorry! I-I didn’t see you there and, and…oh god, oh god…”

The boy slowly swam over to the ladder, progress hindered by his sopping jacket.

It was past dark and Tsumiki hadn’t been able to sleep, and so she had thought a quick walk around the pool area might do her some good. Unfortunately she hadn’t expected Komaeda to be there at that time of night as well. Surprised, she had tripped on an uneven area on the cement, careening into the boy, and sending him flying into the water.

She now watched in terror as Komaeda pulled himself up the ladder and out of the water. He was going to be furious, anyone would be. Between the green coat and his soggy mop of hair, he looked like a swamp monster coming to gobble her up. She was going to become the next victim. _Oh god…_

“I-I know that was completely unforgivable! But, but…” her heart pounded as she clutched the edge of her apron, palms beginning to sweat. “Before you kill me, please feel free to use me however you’d like!”

Wordlessly, Komaeda began to approach her. Tsumiki held her breath. The only sound that could be hear was the _plip-plop_ of water dripping from his clothing.

“You could kick _me_ into the pool, or feed me bugs, or, or…you could draw all over my body!” she continued her desperate offer. “That one was always popular at school…I’ll even undress! Please just let me make this up to you! I’m so sorry!”

Komaeda shed his drenched coat, draping it across one of the deck chairs. His face showed no anger, rather, he seemed to be considering the offer.

“Alright, Tsumiki-san, I’ll draw on you. As long as you don’t mind my worthless hands being near your body,” he smiled cheerfully.

Minutes earlier, he been knocking on the door of Hinata’s cabin, asking if he wanted to compare notes on the current case. Unsurprisingly, he had been turned away. Instead, he had decided to wander around the area and see if his luck might turn up anything else pertaining to the case.

Tsumiki pulled a marker out of her apron pocket. It was a habit she had picked from nursing, keeping something on hand to write with for marking charts and such. She cautiously handed it over.

“Would you please sit down on that chair, if you wouldn’t mind?” Komaeda requested, regarding the pen in his hand if it he had been bestowed some sort of magic wand.

He had meant for her to take the next chair over, but instead, she seated herself right on top of the soaking wet coat. Didn’t she care for her own comfort at all? He suddenly felt a pang of guilt for taking her up on the offer, but he wanted to do something for her. He had been mystified by her ever since they arrived on the island. She was so incredibly talented and beautiful. How could anyone so wonderful not understand their own value? It wasn’t right. A Super Highschool Level student should understand their worth, understand that they were so much better than everyone else, himself included.

He certainly wasn’t angry about falling into the pool, his bad luck probably prompted the mishap anyway, but the opportunity presenting itself right now was too perfect to waste. There was no way he’d have a better chance to show her how important she was. If he used simple words, he knew she’d disagree, or even misunderstand. He was well aware that his choice in words often had a…less than desirable effect on people. If nothing else, he could at the very least take her mind of off the murders for a moment or two.

The girl winced as he sat beside her on the side of the deck chair. Uncapping the marker, he leaned in close, bringing the pen so near to her face, that the tip began to appear to be nothing more than a disembodied black dot headed straight toward her. Did he plan to poke her eye out?

Still, she kept both eyes fixed forward.

The pen tip felt like a tear drop, as it hit home just below her eye. It was the area near her mole, she realised. She had always despised her blemish. The children at school used to ask her if a spider had laid an egg sack on her and if bugs were going hatch from it.

He was moving the marker now, drawing carefully. The fumes from it began to sting at her eye, drawing out an actual tear. Pool water dripped from his hand, landing on her thigh like cold little pin-pricks. He smelled of chlorine.

He seemed to be finished for the moment, sitting back to admire his work. Tsumiki put a hand to her cheek. _A heart?_ She couldn’t be sure, but it had certainly felt like one. A very odd choice for a punishment. Had he been unable to think of what to draw, and settled for the first shape that came to mind?

“Give me your arm, please,” he prompted.

She obeyed without complaint, watching with fascination as he gently took her wrist, flipping it so that the more delicate underside faced him. He began to write a word on the skin, in careful, bold letters that tickled with each stroke.

_‘Slut’? ‘Bitch’?_

Those had always been popular choices when she been scribbled on in the past. Which would it be this time?

_‘Talented’_

“T-t-“ she sputtered, eyes filled with confusion as she studied her arm.

“This a permanent marker, right? People use them for labeling things, like boxes. You, Tsumiki-san, are a treasure box filled to the brim with hope. I’m going to label you, so you can’t mistake your contents anymore,” he continued to smile in his usual unnerving fashion.

“I-isn’t there something else you’d rather do? This can’t be any fun for you…” she gently pulled her wrist away, clutching it to her chest.

“It doesn’t need to be fun for me. Do you really think that I deserve to have fun? This is about you, the paragon of hope and talent. Now..,” he considered, “Would you mind removing your apron and unbuttoning your blouse? I wouldn’t feel right about doing it for you.”

Why was he doing this for her? She was a filthy pig, as Saionji gleefully reminded her at least five times each day. It had to be some cruel set up for a trick. Still, she found herself thinking that it might be nice to pretend that he really did think of her as useful and talented, just for a little while.

She tossed the apron onto the damp cement, then began to unbutton her blouse, fingers shaking slightly, making the job seem to take hours.

“I’m sorry it’s taking so long…” she attempted to fill the uncomfortable silence.

He wanted to tell her to take all the time she needed, but the last time he had told her something similar, she had thought that he was mocking her, rather then showing patience. How could she fail to comprehend that anything she did or said was well worth waiting for? He knew that she must be smart, having made it into Hope’s Peak. Why was the simple concept of her value so impossible for her?

She seemed to take his contemplation as disapproval, her look of dismay deepening as she began to unhook her bra as well. Before he could say anything to stop her, the undergarment joined in the small heap of clothing that had formed on the ground, shed like excess sprinkles from a cupcake, the frosting underneath no worse for it.

The water from the drenched coat she perched upon was beginning to soak through her skirt and panties now. She shifted a bit, bare torso becoming acquainted with the night air only compounding the clammy sensation.

“Why don’t you sit back and make yourself more comfortable?” the boy suggested.

Tsumiki, who had been seated on the side of the deck chair, pulled her legs up to lay them flush on the leg rest, reclining herself against the back of the chair, like a sun-bather who had mistaken the time of day.

Her brows creased in concern as Komaeda repositioned himself on the chair as well, straddling her hips, bracing one hand against the seat on other side of her. Once again leaning in with the marker, this time he went straight for the area right above her pounding heart. She shivered as water began to drip from his t-shirt onto her exposed chest.

She craned her neck downward to read the latest message.

_‘Hope’_

Komaeda’s favorite word, the one he held such reverence for that it seemed to take on a supernatural, almost holy, meaning for him, one that the others could never quite grasp at best, and feared at worst. Would he really waste such a precious word on her?

“Do you understand yet?” he asked her, expression resolute.

She looked down at the ground. Though she was somewhat grateful that he was wasting his time with her, she still decided to speak her mind. “You hate me and…you’re teasing me...”

“You’ve got that wrong, Tsumiki-san,” he smiled softly before placing his lips to the freshly made mark.

Tsumiki’s let out a small sound of surprise, goosebumps prickling on her skin.

“I love all Super Highschool Level students.” He began slightly lower on her chest now, working in larger letters, pen rising and falling as it followed her contours.

 _‘Love’?_ It was a word she couldn’t recall ever hearing in regards to herself before. Even if he had just lumped her in with every other Hope’s Peak student, it still struck a cord with something deep inside of her. Maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe he really did mean for her to enjoy this…whatever it was he was doing. It wasn’t unpleasant, really, only odd and ticklish so far. Certainly better than being hit, which was the kind of touch she had grown most accustomed to.

Her mind drifted back to the first trial. Komaeda had been terrifying, but he certainly hadn’t been the murderer himself. In fact, he attempted to offer himself up as the first victim. Even now, she still wasn’t sure that she completely understood his motives, but from her point of view it had seemed that he was more of a danger to himself than the other students. People often acted different than they normally would under situations of extreme duress, something she often witnessed while nursing. His odd behavior could have been something similar.

He had finished his latest message now. _‘Beautiful’_ was scrawled across her bust line, taking up nearly the entire area.

He placed gentle kisses on this word as well, starting on one end and continuing all the way to the other, punctuating it with a little suck to the ‘l’, earning a soundless shudder.

Komaeda hadn’t paid much attention to anyone, male or female, all throughout middle school, not until he had been excepted into Hope’s Peak and began researching the other students. Her particular talent had intrigued him especially. As a nurse, she held the difference between life and death in her hands, like a goddess of fate. Tsumiki Mikan was very pretty, he wouldn’t deny it, but knowing that this girl held such a marvelous talent inside of her made radiant.

More heart shapes were being formed now, tiny ones drawn in a little ring around the most sensitive part of her bust. There came a sharp intake of breath from the girl as the side of his hand accidentally brushed over the bud.

Tsumiki’s flushed face continued to watch him intently, still with an edge of morbid curiosity. He was somewhat handsome, she thought hazily, but mostly in the face. His body was still somewhat lanky, a fact made even more noticeable now thanks to his clinging shirt, though it was likely something he’d grow out of.

Her thoughts were sharply interrupted by an open mouthed kiss placed against the area directly at the center of his little circle of hearts. A strangled noise choked forth from her throat, one of her legs twitching underneath him. The damp hair hanging down from his forehead brushed against her skin, the coolness of it in stark contrast with the heat of his mouth.

Encouraged, he switched to the side he hadn’t yet drawn on, suckling a bit, before letting go with a little ‘pop’, provoking more gasping and shudders. Her generous bust gave offered up plenty of space to work with. She really was so lovely, he thought, shifting his own legs so that one knee was now situated between her own.

Giving a final swipe of his tongue to the underside of her of breast, he began work on her stomach, exploring at her belly button a bit. She was slightly softer in that area than perhaps some of the other girls were- not nearly as fit as Owari or Pekoyama, yet still likely more familiar with physical activity than, say, Nanami, who’s world-renown skill was playing video games for hours on end.

He ceased his ministrations for the moment, raising his head to lock eyes with the girl.

“Tell me what I should write next.”

A look of surprise crossed her pinkened face, as if she had forgotten what the original point of this exercise was.

“Oh…Um…” she began to fidget again, from uncertainty now rather than pleasure. “You don’t have to do anything else for me…really. I don’t think there’s really anything-“ she cut her self off with a squeak as the knee between her legs slid forward slightly, creating pressure.

“Are you really sure there’s nothing you’d like me to write? Because in that case, I’ll assume that you must have gotten tired of spending time with a useless creature like me. I’ll just have slink back to my cabin, all by myself…” he lamented with feigned sadness, all the while driving the point home by shifting his knee a bit more.

“S-s-“ she began.

“Hm?” he prompted, moving once again.

Dampness from the boy’s pant leg was beginning to soak through her panties now, making it difficult to distinguish between what had already come from herself.

“S-smart! I think…I’m smart, maybe…a little.” she managed breathlessly, punctuating with little pants between the words.

“Great job, Tsumiki-san!” he exclaimed in that odd way of his that always left one wondering if he was being purposely condescending or not, as he scribbled the word over the pale flesh of her stomach.

He nuzzled the newly marked area lovingly, like a friendly cat begging for supper, before setting to work with his mouth once again.

He could feel her body tensing up now, as she took some initiative for herself, squirming against his knee.

She cried out before going limp, breath releasing in spare little gasps and pants.

Capping the marker with a snap, the boy disentangled himself and slid off the chair, kneeling down on the ground to pick up the girl’s discarded clothing. He held the blouse open for her, allowing her to wiggle her arms into the sleeves before letting go. Rather than buttoning it, the girl merely held the front shut with one shaky hand.

Seeming to have gotten whatever it was he had wanted out of the episode, Komaeda turned to go, leaving the girl seated alone on the edge of the deck chair once more.

“Komaeda-san, wait!” Tsumiki implored, catching his attention. “A-are you sure there isn’t anything I can do for you, to make up for the pool and…and…” her face flushed deeper as she thought about what had just occurred.

With a bemused smile, he returned to her side on the chair once more, face drawing near her own.

“ _Kill me_ ,” he breathed into her already feverish ear.

Tsumiki nearly tipped the chair over.

“Ehh!?” she squealed in dismay. “I-I would never!”

Komaeda stood with a laugh. “Just think about it. If you ever get the urge to murder someone and get yourself out of here, pick me. I’d be honored.”

With that, he turned his back to her once again, heading for his cabin and leaving a stunned Tsumiki still half dressed on the soggy jacket-lined deck chair.

“You forgot your jacket…” she informed the night air.

 

_The end_

**Author's Note:**

> Komaeda Nagito, Super Highschool Level Mood Killer.  
> Don't take this story too seriously.


End file.
